


We Get Along (And I Knew We Would)

by meils121



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: First Dates, Fluff, Hugs, M/M, Small Towns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 02:26:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17674652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meils121/pseuds/meils121
Summary: Steve likes his boring, predictable routine.  Then he meets Bucky, and suddenly predictable doesn't seem nearly as fun.Or: The story of how Steve Rogers gets his first date in way too long.  Turns out it's the best first date he's ever had.





	We Get Along (And I Knew We Would)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [haspel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/haspel/gifts).



> A big thank you to Haspel for bidding on my work in the Marvel Trumps Hate auction! I am so excited I got to write this fluffy fic, and I hope you love it!
> 
> Title from Howling at the Moon by Mod Sun

            Steve has a routine.  

            Some people - mainly Natasha - call him boring.  He prefers predictable.  Captain America doesn’t get predictable.  He gets aliens and robots and saving the world from yet another strange and dangerous threat.  Steve Rogers, on the other hand, can have predictable. 

            So every morning he rolls out of bed at an early hour and works out.  He showers and packs his bag and heads to his favorite (and the only) coffee shop in town.  He orders the same thing every day - a small black coffee and a blueberry muffin.  Those in hand, he heads to his favorite table in the corner by the window overlooking Main Street and eats before pulling his sketchbook out of his bag and getting to work.          

            Art started as something he liked to do and has since transformed into so much more.  After he was pulled from the ice and needed help getting his mind wrapped around a world so different from what he knew, he turned to art to make sense of things.  Now he does commission-based stuff too, mostly to keep his mind busy when he’s not on call as Captain America.

            Steve likes his routine.  He likes knowing what’s next in his day-to-day life, likes being able to see the same people and do the same things and fall into a pattern that feels comfortable.  It’s nice. 

            It’s a rainy Tuesday morning in mid-April, the sort of day that has Steve considering just staying in bed for an extra hour.  But he doesn’t, mostly because there’s a very real risk he won’t actually make it out of bed until noon.  So he powers through his workout, the promise of coffee the only thing getting him through some of it.  By nine, he’s parking in front of the coffee shop and rushing inside, trying to keep from getting drenched from the downpour. 

            He’s not in what he’d consider the best mood, and it’s mostly his fault that he’s not paying attention when he steps up to the counter to order and pauses to rifle through his bag to ensure none of his sketchbooks have become waterlogged.  Distracted, he just says, “The usual,” without actually looking at who’s behind the register.

            An amused - and unfamiliar - voice says, “And what would that be?”

            Steve looks up and realizes it’s not the usual barista who works weekday mornings.  Blood rushes to his face as he stammers out an apology.  “I’m so sorry - I didn’t realize - I should have been paying attention -”

            The man holds up a hand.  “It’s cool.  You must be this regular I’ve been threatened about.”

            “Threatened?”

            “Darcy told me in no uncertain terms I wasn’t allowed to flirt with you.”  The man says with a shrug.  “Luckily I had my fingers crossed when I promised I wouldn’t.”

            Steve really doesn’t know what to say to that particular statement.  Darcy, the owner of the coffee shop, is also a friend.  She probably has something up her sleeve, but Steve’s still too confused by this man to figure out what exactly that might be.  

            “Hi.”  Steve says finally, settling on politeness to get him through this odd encounter.  “I’m Steve.”

            “Bucky.”  The man sticks his hand across the counter.  “Darcy and I go way back.”

            “Nice to meet you.”  Steve says, although he’s not totally sure yet if that’s the case.

            “You too.”  Bucky says, and Steve is momentarily distracted by the smile the other man gives him.  “So, what do you want today?”

            Steve gives him his order.  It only takes a couple minutes for his coffee and muffin to be handed to him, and Steve heads to his usual spot to enjoy them.

            The muffin is finished before he pulls out his sketchpad and pencils, though he nurses the coffee over a slightly longer period of time.  Before long, Steve is absorbed in his work. 

            He’s designing a new logo for a local bookstore.  He’s got several ideas, and he’s sketching them all out so he can present his client with a few different options.  He’s just putting the finishing touches on the last one when he registers the fact someone has pulled out the chair opposite him and is sitting down.  

            Steve looks up to find Bucky sitting across from him.  “So Captain America is also a graphic designer?”  Bucky asks.  

            “Not exactly.”  Steve says with a shrug.  “It’s more something I do to keep busy.”

            “Right.”  Bucky nods.  “Because spending all day in the gym is boring.”

            Steve thinks of the two hours he spends working out most days and grins.  “Something like that.”  He agrees.  “So, you’re new around here?”  It’s a question but not - it’s a small enough town that Steve has a pretty good idea of who is a local and who isn’t.  

            Bucky leans back in his chair, balancing dangerously on two legs.  “Moved to town a week ago.”  He confirms.  “City life is great and all, but I needed some time away from all the chaos.”  For the first time, Steve notices the prosthetic arm peeking out from Bucky’s shirt, and things start to click into place.

            “You’re the friend Darcy was talking about.”  He says.  “The one who -”

            Bucky cuts him off.  “I don’t really like talking about my time in the service.”  He says, and Steve nods.  He gets that.  “But yeah.  Darcy convinced me this was as good a place as any to clear my head.”  He wiggles his eyebrows at Steve.  “And turns out she wasn’t wrong.”

            Steve is getting used to Bucky’s flirting.  He’s not quite sure how to return it, but that’s another story.  “Well, welcome.”  He says instead, and Bucky grins at him. 

            “Cheers.”  He glances down at his watch.  “My break is almost over.  But how about you show a guy around town sometime soon?  Point out all the good spots to hang out?”

            “Yeah.”  Steve agrees.  “Let’s do that.”  He tries to tell himself he’s just being neighborly, but there’s something intriguing about Bucky that has Steve wanting to spend more time with the other man.  

            Bucky scribbles his number down on a napkin before heading back behind the counter, and Steve is left thinking about the encounter.  

           

 

===================================

 

            Bucky stares at his phone and wills it to buzz.  “Do you think I was too much?”  He asks over a slice of pizza.  “I mean, he did blush an awful lot for a grown adult.”

            Darcy shakes her head.  “You were definitely too much.”  She says.  “But I don’t think that would deter Steve.  He’s probably trying to figure out the proper time to text you and what to say.  You would not believe the length of the texts that man says.”

            Bucky considers this and takes another bite.  “So the blushing?”

            “Is just Steve.”

            “Huh.”  Bucky says.  “Do you think -”

            “That’s as far as I’m interested in going into my friends’ romantic lives.”  Darcy says, holding up a hand. 

            “Please.”  Bucky says.  “You’re desperate to know what his text will say.”

            Before Darcy can deny or confirm, Bucky’s phone buzzes.  He grabs it and opens the text from an unknown number.  As Darcy promised, the text is long, with Steve informing Bucky who it is and where they met before actually getting to the meat of the message.  

            “He wants to take me out on Friday.”  Bucky says.  Before Darcy can protest, he adds, “Just to show me around town.  Not like a date or anything.”

            “Right.”  Darcy says.  “Steve’s an old man, but he’s not clueless.”

            Bucky just grins at her.  “Well, we’ll see how it goes.”  

            It’s not that Bucky is looking for someone, but his attraction to Steve was pretty instantaneous, and who is he to deny fate or true love or whatever you want to call it?  And Steve seems to return the attraction, so there’s no harm in a little bit of fun flirting and seeing where things lead.  Bucky’s a big believer in following your heart, as ridiculous as that sounds.  After he lost his arm - and learned he was lucky not to have lost his life - he realized that he wasn’t going to waste time hemming-and-hawing anymore.  Time to seize the day, as his mother would say.

            Friday can’t arrive soon enough.  Bucky sends a few texts to Steve throughout the rest of the week, and he always gets a reply.  Steve, while long-winded over text, turns out to have a pretty good sense of humor and a better-than-expected grasp of modern culture (which mostly means he understands the random memes Bucky sends him).  

            Friday arrives, and Bucky spends more time than is really necessary braiding his hair just so and finding the right shirt to wear.  He’s faintly aware that he’s being more than a bit ridiculous, but mostly he just wants to show up looking nice, because he’s pretty sure Steve will.

            And he’s right.  Steve shows up at his house at two minutes of three in jeans and a nice - if tight - shirt.  He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands and keeps shoving them in his pockets before finally sticking one out and shaking Bucky’s hand.  

            “You look good - nice.”  Steve says.  “Nice.”

            “Thanks.  So do you.”  Bucky says.  He eyes the beat-up pickup truck in his driveway.  “Since when does Captain America drive a pickup truck?”

            Steve grins.  “What’s more patriotic than that?”  He asks.  “And Captain America drives some sleek sporty thing that Tony insisted on buying me.  I hate it.  This is easier to drive.” 

            Bucky briefly wonders what gorgeous sports car is sitting in Steve’s garage and mourns not being able to ride in it, but he pushes that out of his head and hauls himself into the passenger seat.  

            “So where are we headed?”

            “Just wait.”  Steve says, and if it was anyone else, Bucky might have been a little alarmed.  Or, at least, concerned.  But this is Steve - Captain America - and so Bucky just tunes the radio and leans back in his seat.

            They arrive at Steve’s destination a short drive later.  Bucky glances out the window and barks out a surprised laugh.  “Uh, I work here.”  He says as he looks at the coffee shop. 

            “I thought we could walk Main Street.”  Steve says.  “Pretty much anything in town worth seeing is somewhere along here.”

            Bucky shrugs and hops out of the truck.  Steve falls in step besides him as they head down the sidewalk.  Even though Bucky’s been here for a couple of weeks, he’s mostly just gone from his house to the coffee shop and back, with an occasional detour to Darcy’s place.  He enjoys seeing the sights with Steve, even if there isn’t a whole lot to actually see.  But the town is cute enough, lots of old brick buildings and Victorian houses.  Steve points out the best places to shop, the vintage-looking movie theater, and the art supply store where he gets most of his sketchbooks and pencils.  They end up at the small local park, a cute little spot with a small playground and a duck pond.  Bucky tugs Steve over to the pond, and they end up on a bench watching the ducks.

            “So, what’d you think?”  Steve asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence passes.  

            “Cute place.”  Bucky says.  It’s a far cry from the hustle and bustle of city life, and maybe that’s why he likes it so much.  Maybe that’s why Steve seems so happy here, so much less serious than the Captain America he sees sometimes speaking at a press conference or event.

            Steve seems to confirm that thought.  “I feel like me here, you know?”  He says.  “Or, maybe it’s just that it’s easier to be me here.”

            It’s probably too deep a thought for a not-even-first-date, but Bucky doesn’t care.  

            “Do you miss it?”  Steve asks.  “The city, I mean.”  They’ve talked the past couple of hours as Steve showed him around town, and found out they’re both from Brooklyn.  

            Bucky shrugs.  “Sometimes.”  He offers.  “But other times - well, you get it.”

            “Yeah.”  Steve says.  They lapse into silence again, just as comfortable as before.  Bucky smiles to himself.  He’s enjoying this. 

            Eventually they decide it’s time to leave.  Bucky’s about to ask if they can do this again sometime, but Steve beats him to it.

            “Now that I’ve shown you around, how about I take you out for dinner sometime?”  He asks, and maybe Steve is a little more smooth than Bucky was giving him credit for.  He’s still blushing, though, something Bucky is rapidly finding adorable.

            “Tomorrow night?”  Bucky suggests, not wanting too much time to pass between spending time with Steve.  

            “Sounds good.”

            Steve - ever the gentleman - drives Bucky home and waits in the driveway until he’s sure Bucky can get into the house.  Bucky turns and gives him a thumbs up and a wave before heading inside.  He hears Steve’s truck pull out into the street and thinks about what a wonderful time he had today.  It wasn’t even that they did anything particularly special - Bucky could have easily had Darcy show him around town.  But Steve was a person he didn’t know he needed in his life, someone who understood what it was like to come home and find out that life had changed while you were gone.  And the fact he was so damn nice and thoughtful was a nice change from some of the guys Bucky had gone out with in the past.  All in all, it was a good day.

 

=============================

  


            Steve returns home with a smile on his face.  He likes Bucky, likes him in a way he hasn’t liked anyone in a long time.  It’s nice, if a little scary.  But scary in a good way. 

            His phone beeps a few minutes later.  It’s a text from Natasha - _Mission status?_.  Steve types back _successful_.

            And it was successful.  Steve had a great time, and perhaps best of all every moment had felt natural, even when they had lapsed into silence.  He didn’t feel forced to make conversation around Bucky, but neither did he lack anything to say to the other man.  He hasn’t felt this way -

            Well, for a long time, anyways.  Steve is already impatient for tomorrow evening to arrive so he can spend more time with Bucky.  He can’t remember the last time he was excited for a date - the ones Natasha set him up on were always something he felt like he had to do, not anything he was particularly looking forward to.

            But Bucky - Bucky is different.  How, exactly, Steve is not entirely sure.  But he is, and that’s really all that matters.  

            He gets a text from Bucky just before he’s about to go to bed.  It’s a simple _Thanks for a good time_ , and it leaves Steve smiling.  He sends back _Anytime.  I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow._

            Steve falls asleep soon after, dreaming of a certain smile.  

            It’s hell trying to keep to his routine the next day.  He just wants to get everything out of the way so he can see Bucky again, as ridiculous as he knows that sounds.  It hasn’t even been a full day since he last saw him. 

            The day passes torturously slow.  Steve calls Natasha, knowing full well that she’ll interrogate him on every single detail about Bucky, but she’s in the middle of some mission and while she might be perfectly capable of holding a conversation while being shot at, it makes Steve nervous that he’s distracting her.  He tries drawing, but he keeps sketching Bucky and he thinks that might be a little creepy, so he stops. 

            But eventually it’s time for him to pick Bucky up.  The other man lives about a five minute drive from Steve, in a neighborhood of tiny bungalows.  Bucky is waiting on his front porch.  A grin lights up his face when Steve pulls into the driveway, and Steve hopes at least some of it is for him and not because he took the sports car today.  

            “Now this is how you take a guy out.”  Bucky says as he slides into the car with more grace than Steve has ever managed (because fancy Italian cars are not meant for anyone over six foot).  He fixes his grin on Steve.  “Good to see you again.” 

            “You too.”  

            The restaurant - like everything else in town - is on Main Street.  It’s a fancy bistro type place, a little too over-decorated for its own good but with plenty of good options on the menu.  Steve and Bucky are escorted to a table in a quiet corner and left with menus. 

            They fall back into the easy conversation of the day before.  Bucky has more stories that Steve can believe, all told with expressive hand gestures and wild expressions.  It’s easy, Steve finds, to get drawn into the world that is Bucky.

            “So, Mr. Artist, what would it take for you to draw a guy?”  Bucky asks over appetizers.  “I make a pretty good model.”

            Steve blushes and thinks of the drawing that’s currently in his sketchbook.  “Uh -”

            Bucky grins as he takes in Steve’s flushed face.  “Something you want to share with the class?”  He asks.  

            “Um.”  Steve manages.  “I’d love to draw you.”  He says, because that’s the truth and he doesn’t have to say anything about the drawing - even if he’s sure Bucky’s figured out its existence already.  

            “Yeah?”  Bucky asks.  “Really?  That’d be awesome.”

            “Yeah.”  Steve agrees.  “It’d be nice.”  

            Dinner itself is fantastic, and dessert even more so.  Afterwards, they leave the restaurant not quite hand-in-hand, but their hands keep brushing against each other.  Neither of them are ready to part yet, not even after Steve takes Bucky for a true spin around town in the sports car.  So they end up at Steve’s place, Bucky settled in on the couch studying Steve’s collection of houseplants with increasing glee and Steve sketching Bucky’s smile and quirked eyebrow and the flyaways from his braid.  Through it all they talk, this time about Bucky’s family and how much Brooklyn has changed and about Steve’s least favorite things about the Captain America uniform ( _“It’s just so damn tight!”_ )

            It’s past midnight when Steve finally sets his pencil down, sketch finished.  It’s more detailed than he was planning on, but then again there were so many details that he wanted to make sure he captured.  

            “Let’s see.”  Bucky says, making grabby hands for the sketchbook.  Steve hands it over.  He still gets nervous when he shows people his art, especially if the person is also the subject of the sketch.  Bucky stares at it for a moment, his eyes wide. 

            “Well?”

            “I love it.”  Bucky breathes out.  “It’s - how the hell do you do this?  It’s amazing.” 

            “Thanks.”  Steve says, feeling equal parts bashful and proud.  

            “Seriously,”  Bucky says, flopping back onto the couch cushion, “you may be wasting your talents as Captain America.”  He looks down at the sketch again.  “Man, my ma would love this.”

            “So give it to her.”  Steve says. 

            Bucky glances up, surprised.  “Really?  I can just - have it?”  

            “That’s what art’s for.  Sharing.  It’s meant to be with the people who will appreciate it.”  Steve says.  “Besides, it turns out you are a pretty good model.  I wouldn’t mind sketching you again sometime.”

            “That sounds like another date.”  Bucky wiggles his eyebrows, and Steve laughs.  

            “I’d like that.”  He says.

            “Yeah.”  Bucky agrees.  “Me too.”

            Steve drives Bucky home not long after, walking him up to his front door.  

            “Sure know how to make a guy feel special.”  Bucky says. 

            Steve smiles at that.  “You are special.”  He says, and maybe it’s too much too fast, and maybe Steve just doesn’t care because it feels right.  He’s going with the flow, as Clint would say. 

            Bucky pauses, his key still in the lock.  He glances over at Steve, wearing a matching smile.  “So are you, Steve.”  He says.  Before he goes inside, he leans in and hugs Steve, the sort of hug that’s comforting and welcoming and hinting at what’s to come as they get to know each other more.  Steve almost doesn’t want to let go. 

            Eventually he does, and he’s graced with a smile from Bucky, like the other man is thinking exactly the same thing.  

            “See you soon?”  Bucky asks.

            “Yeah.”  Steve says.  “Very soon.”

            It’s late bordering on early when he gets back home.  He lets himself back in and gets ready for bed, his thoughts somewhere else.  He wants a relationship with Bucky - wants more of the conversations and the laughter and the feeling of _just right_ that he gets when he’s around Bucky.  And he’s pretty sure Bucky wants the same thing.  A week ago he might have fled from that idea.  Now?  Now he’s pretty sure he’s found the person he’s been looking for.  And isn’t that something. 

           

 


End file.
